


Intimately

by NerdyGrlWonder



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Blood, Crying, Cuddles, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gentle touches, Honesty, Intimacy, Married Life, Moments, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Playtime, Reading Aloud, Scars, Sleep, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Cuddles, Summer, Water Fight, archives, the first I love you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyGrlWonder/pseuds/NerdyGrlWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of non-linear, canon non-compliant intimate moments between Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane. Some of these imply that they are in relationship, some of them don't. I just wanted to highlight some of the most intimate moments in any relationship. Hope you all like it.</p><p> <br/>Check out the most recent chapter!<br/><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3701973/chapters/10988036">Chapter 10:So This Is Love </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

**Author's Note:**

> The first time you tell someone you love them is a truly intimate moment. The first time Ichabod tells Abbie he loves her, it's full of revelations and honesty.

Ichabod had taken to sitting on the pier outside of his cabin, dangling his long legs over the edge into the water when he needed to think. There were times when he’d sit there contemplating his crumbling marriage. Other times, he’d bring his phone with him and try to wrap his brain around the workings and wonders of this time.

Then there were the countless hours he had spent after he’d lost Katrina. Sometimes he sat curled in on himself, shaking over the memory of the knife plunging into her chest. Or he would stand, staring off into the distance in anger at her choice to turn her back on goodness and on him.

At first, Abbie kept her distance. She gave him the space she knew he needed. Then, as their relationship began to change and grow into something more, she’d often join him on the pier. Initially, they sat side-by-side in silence; they simply enjoyed each other’s presence. Somewhere along the way Abbie’s small hand found its way into Ichabod’s, cradled gently in his lap.

Soon enough, Abbie’s legs dangled over the edge of the pier between Ichabod’s. They would sit so entwined sometimes talking, sometimes in silence watching the sun set through the trees. It was one such sunset that changed everything for them once again.

The evening sky reflected off of the still lake waters setting the surrounding woods alight as if on fire. Chirps and sing-song calls could be heard all around from the resident water fowl mixing in with the tale tell rhythmic reverberation of crickets. Ichabod’s arms wrapped tightly around Abbie’s waist as her head lay nestled against his chest.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Abbie traced unknown shapes over the back of Ichabod’s hands absentmindedly.

Ichabod was silent, lost and content in watching Abbie’s lithe fingers float over his skin.

“Earth to Crane.”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Did you say something?”

“I asked,” Abbie said with a chuckle “what’s on your mind? You’re awfully quiet. Generally that means something is either wrong or you’re deep in thought. You’re never this quiet otherwise.”

Ichabod angled his head to look haughtily down at the beautifully petite woman in his arms.

“Are you implying madam that I talk too much?”

“I’m not implying it. I’m saying it directly to your face.” Abbie turned her head with a smile to glance at Ichabod. She barely had time to register the cheeky look on his face when Ichabod captured her lips between his. The kiss started out gently but Ichabod deepened it, pouring all if himself and his affections into it. When he pulled away, Abbie’s eyes remained closed and she was breathless.

Ichabod took in the woman he held. In all of his days and in the two lifetimes he’d been granted, he never thought that he’d find someone to match his heart twice. He had loved Katrina fiercely. Yet even as he had fought to free her from Purgatory and then from the grip of the Horseman, even as he tried to hold onto what he had once known and loved, he knew that it paled in comparison to the deep bond and love he had begun to feel for his partner.

Their fate as partners was foretold, but their bond, their friendship, their affection for each other was something that they chose to develop. Their union, however unlikely, was something that went beyond anything he had ever felt before. As he held Abbie in his arms, what he had been thinking spilled from his lips of its own volition.

“I was thinking that I am irrevocably in love with you, Abbie.”

Abbie’s eyes snapped open and her mouth opened in a soft “o” after his confession. She stared at him torn between shock and disbelief.

“Crane…”

“You asked me what I was thinking. That was it.” Ichabod maneuvered himself from behind Abbie to turn and face her completely. Cradling her face his hands, he brushed his thumbs back and forth over her cheeks.

“I had spent the majority of my time in this century trying to reclaim something in my marriage with Katrina that was built on a lie and manipulations…”

“You didn’t know that, Crane.”

“Not at first I didn’t. Not consciously at least. But with each deception, I realized that the woman I had married was nothing more than a dream. I clung to her, to my past, as a way to avoid the truth that lay before my very eyes.”

Ichabod leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Abbie’s lips. He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed her in.

“I was falling in love with you. With every glance, every assurance, every smile and side glance you shared with me made my heart constrict in a way that I was too afraid to acknowledge. I tried to suppress it. I hid behind Katrina, my pride and arrogance. I told myself that I was wrong and faithless for feeling the way I did but the truth is I was being a coward.”

Ichabod pulled his face back from Abbie’s to gaze into her deep staurolite eyes which were filled with unshed tears but she held his gaze firmly.

“I no longer want to be a coward. I am in love with you, Grace Abigail Mills. I love you.”

Abbie raised her hands slowly to the back of Ichabod’s and pulled them away from her face. She dropped her gaze to look at their joined hands, a few tears escaping and landing on his skin. She studied them for a moment before looking back to his eyes, leaned forward and kissed him as fiercely as she could.

“I am in love with you too Ichabod Crane” she said smiling at him through tears. “I have loved you from the moment you called that ump a basket face.”

Ichabod looked at Abbie incredulously and then barked out laughing and kissed her again. He enveloped her in a hug so tight; she had to push him away just to be able to breathe. Abbie turned back to the water, dangling her feet over the edge of the pier once more and pulled Ichabod behind her. He draped his legs over the edge around hers and wrapped her up in is arms again. They passed the next hour embracing against the chill of twilight in their newly declared love.

 


	2. Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are few things worse than a bad haircut. There are few things better than having someone care about you enough to take care of you and try to fix it for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love, love, love when someone plays with my hair. It relaxes me. There's something genuinely so intimate about running your fingers through someone else's hair. This piece was about that intimacy as well as the trust required to let someone else take care of you in that way.

Abbie walked into the cabin carrying a brown paper bag filled with groceries. Ichabod had been hiding out in the cabin for two weeks alone and Abbie was having none of it anymore. She put the bag down with a loud thump which was met with a muffled “Go away, Lieutenant” from behind the closed bedroom door.

“Come on, Crane. It isn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad? You have no idea how awful it is Miss Mills.”

Abbie shook her head and laughed to herself as she offloaded the groceries and placed them in their respective cabinets.

“Listen, everyone gets a bad haircut every once in a while. I’m sure it looks better now than it did a couple of weeks ago.”

The door flew open and Ichabod exited in a whirl. His normally evenly shorn locks that hung just below his shoulder line were in a state of uneven disarray. There were chunks that landed in the middle of his neck and some more that fell just below his ear. The pieces that hung near his shoulders looked as if a weed whacker had had a go at them.

“Is this what you would consider “not that bad”?” Abbie looked at his distraught face and messy hair and did everything in her power to not laugh. “I shall never again trust your sister’s suggestions on personal hygiene and grooming!”

“Crane…” she walked over to him, running her fingers through his hair and trying to make sense of his hair. “Go sit by the sink.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Go sit by the sink. I’m going to fix this.”

Ichabod looked at Abbie as if she had grown another head.

“Miss Mills, while I appreciate your efforts and I am well aware of your skills in many areas, I doubt even you could make sense of _this!_ ” Ichabod pulled the uneven strands of his hair out in display.

“Just go sit in front of the damn sink.”

Abbie pulled out the drape, scissors, comb, shampoo and conditioner she had brought with her for this specific purpose and set them on the counter near the sink. She placed the drape around Ichabod’s neck, slapping his fidgety hands away from the garment as he toyed with the collar.

She leaned Ichabod’s head back over the lip of the sink and set about working the warm water and shampoo through his hair. With each pass her small but sure fingers made over his scalp, Ichabod’s eyes flutter until they were closed. Abbie smiled down at the blissful look on his face and continued her ministrations.

After rinsing out the conditioner and toweling out his hair, Abbie set about fixing the mess that a clearly unskilled hairdresser had made of Ichabod’s hair. She parted and combed out the tangles and began to snip. Ichabod flinched reflectively the first couple of cuts but relaxed and leaned back into the chair and Abbie’s hands.

They spent the entire exchange in silence – a departure from Crane’s incessant ranting and Abbie’s audible sighs at said rants. After the last cut, she raked her fingers through his hair from his scalp out to get rid of any stray snippets. She worked a bit of argan oil through and moved to stand in front of him.

She leaned over, taking a strand of hair from each side and pulling it down against his face to make sure it was even. Ichabod looked at Abbie intently. She seemed lost in thought, absorbed by the task at hand. His eyes moved to her full mouth. Her lips were parted and pursed in concentration.

Abbie caught Ichabod’s eyes on her mouth and ignored the twinge it made her feel in her chest.

“All good. Go take a look.”

Ichabod jerked his eyes upward to Abbie’s eyes and smiled nervously at her. He sat perfectly still as she removed the drape and stood to go look at himself in the bathroom mirror. While his hair was shorter than he was used to, it now fell is soft waves from below his ear to right above his shoulders.

“I do believe you have outdone yourself, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah well next time you need a haircut, talk to me first before going to anyone Jenny suggests. She would up with an awful bowl cut fro when she was eleven because her friend Shana swore she could cut hair.”

Ichabod stalked back out of the bathroom and over to Abbie as she cleaned up the hair on the floor. He grabbed her hand in his, pulled it to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly.

“Thank you, Abbie.”

“Anytime, Crane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. Abbie will get her hair moment too!


	3. Behind the Ear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, your fingers move of their own accord.

They assumed this position almost every day. Pouring over the ancient tomes and scrolls they had amassed in the archives was as vital and commonplace as breathing. Sometimes Abbie would be ensconced in front of her laptop screen while Ichabod searched for exactly the right book. Other times they’d be standing next to each other, discussing something of note as it pertained to whatever case they were working on.

Today, they sat Indian-style and opposite of each other on the floor; each of them looking for the answer to today’s mystery. Ichabod glanced up to ask his partner if she had found anything when he stopped. Abbie’s head was bowed over her book. Though her hair was pulled back in what she referred to as a “ponytail”, a few stray strands had defied their confines and fallen forward, slightly obscuring her rich hazelnut eyes.

Without thought or an explicit command, Ichabod’s right hand raised. He captured the strands between his index and middle fingers, feeling their silky-soft texture caress his skin. Gently, he brushed the hair back behind her ear. His fingers brushed her skin in a feather light kiss as they came down along her jaw.

Abbie raised her eyes to his from beneath her heavy lashes. A slow smile graced her lips.

“Thanks, Crane.”

“My pleasure, Lieutenant.”

 

 


	4. Going Down Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one can't help but surrender to sleep and the other can't help but care for you anyway.

Exhausted was a word that she had thrown around for years without any real concept of its definition until this very moment. Short staffed and a holiday weekend; Abbie had been on call for the sheriff’s department for the last twenty four hours. Add to that the twin banshees that she and Ichabod had just taken down and she felt like she had truly defined a new definition of tired.

Ichabod knew her well. She may be walking upright and have her eyes wide open, but he could tell that Abbie was close to collapsing where she stood. He didn’t even consider the idea of arguing with her; he simply took the keys from her slightly trembling hand and guided her to the passenger side of her new Jeep. He would drive them back to the cabin lest they both wind up in the hospital from her falling asleep behind the wheel.

He should have been shocked that she managed to stay awake the twenty minute drive back to the cabin in the dark but he wasn’t. No, his Lieutenant was stubborn and didn’t like showing weakness, even to her own partner. Still, as he pulled up to the cabin hopped out of the car and went to open the door for her; he imagined he could see the lead weights attached to her feet as she dragged herself out of the seat and up the stairs.

“Shall I make us some tea, Lieutenant?”

“Hmm? Tea? Yeah, tea is fine.”

As Ichabod moved silently towards the kitchen, Abbie plopped herself down onto the couch feeling every tensely wound fiber of her body relaxing into its cushions. She knew Crane would object to her driving herself home but she desperately just wanted to sleep in her own warm bed and not on the couch in the cabin. Sure, it did in a pinch, but today she needed a solid sleep not the tossing and turning that accompanied trying to rest on the twenty-plus year old sofa.

A faint glow still remained from the dwindling flames of the fire Crane had started before they left. Abbie stared at them, transfixed. The miniature tongues danced in a slow, sultry pattern that made her eyes lids feel heavy. _I’ll just shut my eyes for a minute_ was the last thought she had before sleep mercifully claimed her.

Ichabod walked to the couch, mug in hand when he found her curled up and in a deep sleep. In the few moments it had taken him to boil and pour the water, Abbie had surrendered to slumber. He was loath to disturb her but the couch would never do. She’d never be able to obtain the rest she needed laying there.

Placing the mug on the table, Ichabod knelt down and gently pried her shoes from her feet. He removed her hair from the queue she had it in so that it fell freely. Ever so delicately, he scooped her up into his arms, cradled her to his chest and moved towards the bedroom. Tenderly, he laid her on the bed and watched as she curled on her side once again and sighed in her sleep. Seeking out the spare blanket that he kept on the footboard, Ichabod draped it over Abbie’s small form and tucked it in around her.

He took a single moment for himself to watch her in her repose. For once, he didn’t try to analyze what he was feeling for her at that moment. He just acknowledged the exquisite beauty that always seemed to radiate from her. Brushing her hair from her face, he placed a light kiss upon her brow and backed out of the room, keeping Abbie in his sight until he closed the door and let her dream. 


	5. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scars show that you survived something but they also show what you almost lost.

This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that they patched each other up. Taking out the minions of evil and trying to avert the Apocalypse came with certain job hazards. One of them, being injuries, meant that the first aid kit got frequent use and wounds would be replaced by scars.

This wasn’t the first time that Abbie had to piece Crane back together, but it was the first time her hands shook as she stitched his gash. It was the first time that anxiety gripped her heart in a way she had never known. This had been too close; she could have lost him. Her friend, her confidant, her partner could have been taken from her in the blink of an eye.

Abbie was mentally kicking herself as she tied off the final stitch and began to wipe the remaining blood away from the wound that lay only inches below the scar that had, over the course of centuries, led him to her. She should have been faster. She could have stopped the knife wielding Hessian had she just been faster. Angrily, Abbie dabbed antibiotic ointment across his chest causing Ichabod to wince.

“Lieutenant, while I appreciate the enthusiasm that you’ve employed in repairing me, perhaps less vigor would be more effective to the healing process.”

He said it with a smile on his face but Abbie could tell she was hurting him. _Shit._ Just another error to add to her growing list today. When Abbie didn’t respond to his jest other than to lighten her touch, Ichabod gently clasped her hand between his.

“This is not your fault, Lieutenant.” Abbie tried to pull her hand away but he held firm, leaning down with a soft hiss to get her to look at him. “There was nothing you could have done to stop him.”

The anger and fear that she had been trying to bury found its way up, catching in the back of her throat as she spoke.

“If I had just been faster…”

“You would be the one receiving care, not I and it would have been far worse than just a small gash. That, I could not abide.”

He knew better than to press her. Lieutenant Mills had limits. He could and would frequently test them, but having been her partner – no, more than that – having been her friend for as long as he had now, he knew when to push and when to back off.  Ichabod let go of her hand and watched her face. He saw the anger at herself and fear for him roll across her brow and tug downward at the corners of her lovely and full mouth. But he saw something else too; something he didn’t dare try to name.

Abbie’s fingertips floated lightly over the Horseman’s scar leaving a faint trail of fresh blood in their wake. This solitary, distinct disfigurement had ended one of Ichabod’s lives and bestowed another upon him. This one scar and lead him to her. The one beneath it, one of many that he had recently received in their battle, could have taken him from her. It was in that moment that Abbie acknowledged that she couldn’t live without Ichabod Crane in her life anymore. She wouldn’t.

Slowly removing her hand from his chest, Abbie sought Crane’s eyes and held them.

“Promise me you’ll be more careful from now on, okay? I will not go on without you. I can’t.”

He wanted to pull her in close. He wanted to hold her until she stopped trembling. He wanted to ease her fears, to kiss away the tears that threatened to abandon their home in her eyes. He wanted to finally, _finally_ tell her how he felt about her. Instead, he held her gaze as he nodded firmly.

“While I draw breath, I shall do everything in my power to remain by your side. This, Grace Abigail Mills, I do swear to you.”


	6. In Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's just too damn hot for anything but a little bit of play

“Crane, put it down. Think about what you’re doing!”

The humid summer air and the anxiety of the situation at hand caused a pearl of sweat to drop down her back. Abbie backed away from the crazed look in Ichabod’s eyes slowly, one hand rose in front of her. It didn’t matter at what speed and in which direction she ran, they were in the open space in front of the cabin; she was simply an easily hit moving target.

“I do believe, Lieutenant, that you issued a challenge. _You would never shoot me, Crane. You couldn’t._ Isn’t that what you uttered earlier today?”

Ichabod matched each of Abbie’s back steps with a forward step of his own. He had her in his sights. She had challenged his aim, his marksmanship, and his courage for the last time. Grace Abigail Mills would pay for her incessant slights against his character. Raising his gun, he took another deep step towards her. He had her cornered now; she was backed into the corner of the yard that led to the pier. _A fitting end_ he thought to himself with a smirk on his face.

“Crane, I am warning you. You do not want to go down this path. You’ll regret it.”

“I doubt that very much Miss Mills.”

Just as he was about to fire his first volley, Abbie barrel rolled to the side near Ichabod’s wood splitting stump and pulled out her own gun. She got of her first shot before he’d even had a moment to think about it. He’d been hit square in the chest. An odd trickling sensation flowed down his torso followed by an icy chill that caused the hair on his arms to stand on end.

Ichabod looked down at the dark stain spreading down his shirt then back up at the woman behind the gun. Abbie had a devilish grin on her face as she circled back to the path that lead to the pier. He watched as she pumped her water gun twice and made ready to fire again when he interrupted her assault with one of his own. She released a shrill scream as the stream of cold water hit her directly in the forehead.

They gave each other no quarter, firing water jets at each other with alacrity, each trying to outdo the other until they were stranded on the dock, each gun now empty. Ichabod was the first to surrender, tossing his water gun down on the dark planks.

“I surrender! You are a most formidable opponent, Lieutenant.”

“A huh…”

Abbie lowered her water gun but didn’t drop it as she walked up to him. She smiled up at him and gently placed her hand on his elbow.

“What was that, Captain? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, Lieutenant, that you were a formidable opponent.”

“So, you’re saying that I’m better than you?”

Ichabod smiled while rolling his eyes at the beautiful, petite woman he loved next to him.

“I am saying that you are indeed, a worth _equal_.”

Abbie chuckled while pivoting her feet. “Equal? You will regret that Crane.”

With a swift movement, Abbie pushed Ichabod over the edge of the pier into the water, laughing the entire time. Ichabod sputtered and his head broke water. Try as he might, he couldn’t be upset with her. He paddled his way to the edge of the dock where her hand was stretched out to him. He thought about pulling her in but decided against it. He did however pull her into a crushing embrace.

He moved so swiftly that Abbie lost her footing and they both went crashing down on the dock, Ichabod taking the full weight of the fall with Abbie in his arms. She rolled over in his arms to lean over him, her curves acutely defined beneath her wet clothing and pressed against him. Her hair hand like a curtain around the sides of her face as she slowly lowered her lips to his.

His kiss was an expose in juxtaposition. His lips were soft but his kiss bristled with the sensation of his beard. His hands held her firm and steady in contrast to their normal fidgety dance. He expressed his love silently instead of his normal tendency to expound on everything he was thinking and feeling. Abbie loved kissing him.

When she pulled away from their kiss, Ichabod still held her close and stared into her beautiful brown eyes.

“I told you, you would regret the things you said and did today,” Abbie said with a laugh.

“My dearest Abbie, I never regret anything said, any moment, that ends with you in my arms.”

 

 


	7. Cry Just A Little Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the dam breaks, the tears fall on their own

She was always so strong. It seemed like there was very little that could get through the impenetrable armor that was Grace Abigail Mills’ emotional barriers. Still, given all they had been through, given all that they had sacrificed, even her barriers would fall at least once.

She fought so hard against the rising tide.  It felt like everything that had happened to her over the course of her life was bombarding her, pulling her down deeper into a dark sea of emotions that threatened to drown her.

She’d come within inches of losing Crane tonight. Watching the light slowly drain from his eyes while she stood by helplessly bound had spurred her into action to save someone she loved but it also managed to break something inside of her. As they made their way back to the cabin, Abbie sank further and further into herself, trying desperately to catch any ray of light, any fresh air that she could.

Ichabod could feel the desperation and fear radiating off of his tiny Lieutenant. He’d been sensing it rising for weeks now. He knew she needed to let go; he knew she needed to release everything she’d been bottling up over the course of her life but this was Abbie. He knew that she’d do so when she was ready, preferably when she was alone but knowing her as much and as well as he did, he knew she needed someone – something to catch her when she fell.

They’d barely made it through the door when she started to tremble and hyperventilate. Ichabod did the one thing, the only thing he could for Abbie; he pulled her small frame into his substantial one, enveloping her into a tight embrace. She collapsed into him, taking him down with her as she sobbed silently. He held her there in a crumpled heap, his large hands cradling her head to his chest. He said nothing; he simply kissed the crown of her head repeatedly and allowed her to cry – to let out everything that she felt she had to hold in.

Ichabod did the one thing that no one else ever seemed to allow Abbie to do – be vulnerable.


	8. I Want You To Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "makes me feel like I can't live without you  
> yeah it takes me all the way  
> I want you to stay"

Everything was so new. The shift had been happening gradually for months now and yet, neither of them knew how to move forward or how to define it. Instead of talking about the change in their relationship, they carefully avoided any and all mention of it. That didn’t stop things from being different – being more.

 They left toiletries and clothes at each other’s places and had been for ages. Whenever they were too tired to go to their respective homes, one would take the bedroom; the other would take the couch. It was an unspoken agreement that Abbie always got the bed and Ichabod the couch. Abbie had given up arguing with him about it and just took the bed without complaint. This went on continuously without change – until that one night.

Abbie indulged him in his guilty pleasure. Ichabod Crane was a reality television junkie. She sat on his bed in the cabin and watched as each bachelorette tried to win over the bachelor of the season and Ichabod complained about who was left out of the running. She felt her lids get heavier with each rose that was given out. Before she knew it, she felt the bed shift as Ichabod shut off the television in the room, pulled a blanket over her and rose to leave her to sleep.

Through the haze of sleep, Abbie thought about the change in their relationship. She thought about how she had always wanted Ichabod close but now it was different. It wasn’t just that she wanted to be close to him; she needed it. Why fight it any longer?

“Crane?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

Ichabod stopped his hand on the doorknob, the door half closed as his eyes fell of Abbie’s diminutive and covered form. She rolled over and stretched her hand out to him, her need for him displayed plainly on her face.

“I want you to stay.”

She could see a silent battle raging on his face but he only hesitated a moment before he slid back into the room, closing the door behind him. Abbie slid over to make room for him. He lifted the covers and crawled in next to her, laying flat on his back and leaving space between them. Abbie needed more. Rolling over, she grabbed his opposite hand and pulled it over her, scooting back into him and tucking his arm close to her heart. He stiffened at first and then relaxed, pulling her closer to him and resting his forehead against her hair – breathing in the scent of the Shea and coconut oils she used.

“Goodnight Crane.”

“Goodnight… Abbie.”

 


	9. Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes someone can steal your fries and your heart at the same time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's canon that Abbie is a notorious fry thief. I wanted to highlight it somehow.

The bright and crisp fall weather that everyone had expected to hit Sleepy Hollow in mid-September finally came to town a month later. As shimmery gold and sanguine red leaves danced along the breeze outside, a few of them hit the window of Hattie’s Dinner.

Abbie and Crane were leaned in closely, quietly discussing the facts of their current demonic case when one of Hattie’s newest and young waitresses walked up to the table. Abbie tried to keep her eyes from rolling out of their sockets and onto the table as “Annie” as her nametag read, gave Crane a lingering caress on the shoulder.

They both watched “Annie” walk away to place their orders, swaying her hips more than entirely necessary. Ichabod knew exactly what she was up to. He knew what all of the women who leaned in too closely to him, or touched him on the arm were up to. What they failed to understand is that he had no interest in them. He only had room enough in his life for one woman.

She may be small in stature but that was the only little thing about Abbie. Her presence filled a room and her heart was as large as this mighty nation he helped forge. Ichabod tried not to think about her heart too often for it pained his. If he thought about her heart, he’d have to think about how he longed to claim it as his own if she’d let him.

He’d think about how badly he wanted to tell her how he felt for her; how he wanted to be the one to soothe her fears and nightmares in the dark. He’d think about how he longed to kiss away her tears. He would imagine holding her in the night, making her forget everything but bliss at his touch.

Oh how Ichabod thought about all of these things when he looked at her. He’d come close to telling her a dozen times over since he found himself free to do so but the words always seemed to get in the way.

Instead, he hoped his actions would speak for him. They needed to after so many missteps. So when their plates of food were dropped in front of them, he scooted his side order of fries to the middle of the table. He never ordered them for himself. They were always for her. He watched as his heart screamed for Abbie to hear it beat just for her, as she absentmindedly stole each of his fries like she had surely stolen his heart.


	10. So This Is Love

_“She was stretched on her back beneath the pear tree soaking in the alto chant of the visiting bees, the gold of the sun and the panting breath of the breeze when the inaudible voice of it all came to her."_

The deep, refined timber of Ichabod’s voice drifted through the summer air and tree branches above him as he read aloud from Zora Neal Hurston’s novel. _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ was one of Abbie’s favorites. The balmy summer breeze blew wild strands of hair into his eyes, forcing him to pause in his reading. Pushing his short locks behind his ear, he began anew.

_“She saw a dust-bearing bee sink into the sanctum of a bloom; the thousand sister-calyxes arch to meet the love embrace and the ecstatic shiver of the tree from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom and frothing with delight. So this was a marriage! She had been summoned to behold a revelation. Then Janie felt a pain remorseless sweet that left her limp and languid.”_

Ichabod felt Abbie shift beneath his arms. She’d curled onto her right side, her head cradled in his lap; her hand lay next to her face. A soft sigh drifted on the light wind that moved her hair into her face. Closing the book, Ichabod gently pushed the misplaced hair out of her face and gazed down with an incredible flood of emotion overtaking him.

Taking Abbie’s hand in his, he skirted his thumb over the ring that had just recently taken up residence on her left ring finger. They had decided to go with matching, simple white gold bands with olive branches entwined around them. Even in her slumber, Abbie reached out for him, entwining her fingers with his and pulling them to the center of her chest.

Smiling and leaning his head back against the proud maple they sat beneath, Ichabod closed his eyes and thought to himself _So this was a marriage!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Sleepy Hollow or any of the characters therein.
> 
> Quotation taken from Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God. If you have not read it, please do so. It is a wonderful, wonderful book.


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